


strawberry kisses

by ErinNovelist



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Morning After, Romance, Shiro Almost Burns the Pancakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 07:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13119357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinNovelist/pseuds/ErinNovelist
Summary: Shiro brings his burned pancakes to the table and slips into the seat next to Keith. “If you think this is so funny, then you’re more than welcome to wake up early with me and make breakfast yourself.”Keith lets out a breathless laugh as he presses forward, strawberry-stained lips catching hold of Shiro’s. “Next time,” Keith says between long, lingering kisses, “maybe you should,” lips trailing down the curve of his jaw, “wake me up too.”





	strawberry kisses

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is a gift to the lovely [rabcye](http://rabcye.tumblr.com/) for the Sheith Secret Santa. I saw your request for domestic, and I figured this was the fluffiest and most domestic thing I could think of, so I really, really hope you like it. Happy holidays! I hope it's a wonderful time, and you get all the good things you deserve!
> 
> Also, you guys, I got the privilege to check out some of their art, and it's honestly so freaking gorgeous, so you should all check it out and follow them on tumblr!
> 
> And without further ado: Merry Sheithmas.

Sunlight seeps through the cracks in the blinds, spilling silver stripes over Keith’s slumbering form and the pastel blue comforter covering them. Goose-pimpled skin pressed against one another, Shiro sighs and buries his face in the crook of Keith’s neck, knowing there isn’t much time before they’re set to wake. Keith dozes in his arms, fingers splayed over his hip and low back, warm breath tickling his cheek.

Asleep, Keith looks young. There’s no dark circles beneath his eyes, the hollows in his cheeks filled in, and the weariness he carries in his expression has softened. A ghost of a smile is seen in the curl of his lips, and Shiro aches to press a kiss to them. Though he worries he’d wake the younger man, and as much as he itches to kiss him, this is the first time Keith’s found an easy sleep in a long while.

With a sigh, Shiro slips out of bed, taking great care so not to disturb Keith. He grabs a random hoodie with the Galaxy Garrison logo on front off the floor from the night before, stepping into some boxers, before he pushes open the door and heads for the kitchen, intent on making Keith breakfast. Fifteen minutes later, he stands over the stove flipping pancakes, the fresh scent of coffee wafting up from the two mugs on the counter, as he ponders if they have any strawberries to cut up for toppings.

He thinks about the night before: sweat-soaked sheets around them as they move against each other, hips thrusting and fingers tracing the natural curves of their bodies, low moans pulled from kiss-swollen lips as they make love in the dark shade of twilight. The night before had been a long time coming after years spent in a binary star system, caught in one another’s gravity and unable to escape, full of second glances and flustered smiles, until Keith finally kissed him, and… everything was perfect. 

If anyone had asked Shiro a year ago if he could imagine standing barefoot in his kitchen, his best friend asleep in the bedroom, with pancakes burning on the stove in front of him, he would’ve called them crazy.

There’s a scuffle of footsteps behind him, bare feet against hardwood as Keith toddles into the kitchen, arms stretched overhead with a silent yawn. Dressed in a plain white tee, black sweatpants askew on his hips, Keith peers up at him with slits of purple, not yet accustomed to the morning light, and Shiro’s heart beats louder in his chest. Running a hand through his tousled hair, Keith smacks his lips together, mouth opening to in a muffled greeting, as he joins Shiro at the counter.

“Morning, sunshine,” Shiro says and hands him the red “ _Shud Duh Fuh Cup_ ” coffee cup, a gift from Lance and Pidge last Christmas.

Hands wrap around the it, reveling in the newfound warmth, as he sighs into the mug. “You’re too perky,” Keith shoots over the rim before taking a sip. 

“And you look like you could go back to sleep,” retorts Shiro as he gulps his own coffee. 

“I could,” he murmurs in response.

As Shiro turns back to the pancakes, Keith crowds closer, pressing his chest along Shiro’s back until they’re lined up—head to toe—and simply breathes against him. His heartbeat pounds hard—soft but strong—through the fleece of the hoodie, in sync with Shiro’s own, and they find comfort in the early silence of the morning. 

When Shiro is happy with their golden color, he flips the pancakes onto a nearby plate and all but shoves them into Keith’s free hand. “Eat,” Shiro says, directing him towards the kitchen table. “There’s syrup and strawberries in the fridge.”

The cutlery sits on the table next to the sugar shaker, place mats in their respective place—the whole setup prim and proper—and all Keith has to do is slide a chair out and enjoy his breakfast. Shiro spoons out the remaining of the batter into the oil-stained plan, preparing his own pancakes, but his eyes flicker to Keith as he works. At the table, the younger man drizzles syrup over his stack with a strawberry between his lips, sucking on the fruit as he prepares his food.

Shiro is quiet, simply drinking in the sight of his best friend eating breakfast at his kitchen table, in the most domestic setting he’s ever seen. And somehow, even though the scene is jarring as he has never been a domestic sort of person, Shiro could see himself waking up to it for the rest of his life.

Inside, he should be screaming. They’ve just spent their first night together, and Shiro is already planning the rest of their forever. It’s supposed to be too much, but at the same time, he knows it’s everything he’s always wanted. And that just makes everything more perfect.

Right now, there are three things that Shiro is sure of: 1) Keith with tousled hair and a sleepy expression is the most beautiful sight in the world, 2) pancakes taste best when you eat them with your best friend, and 3) he is helplessly, head over heels in love with Keith Kogane. 

“Your pancakes are burning,” comes Keith’s matter-of-fact tone from the table.

The scent of smoke tickles his nose, and with a yelp, Shiro is hurriedly pulling the pancakes out of the pan, dumping them onto the awaiting plate. He tosses the pan in the sink and lets cold water run on the black metal to cool while he hastily cleans up his preparation space. From the table, Keith laughs. 

Shiro shakes his head as he finishes up, bringing his breakfast to the table and slipping into the seat next to Keith. “If you think this is so funny, then you’re more than welcome to wake up early with me and make breakfast yourself.”

Smiling widely at his antics, Keith lets out a breathless laugh as he presses forward, strawberry-stained lips catching hold of Shiro’s. “Next time,” Keith says between long, lingering kisses, “maybe you should,” lips trailing down the curve of his jaw, “wake me up too.”

Shiro returns the kisses: deeply and fully. His tongue traces the seam of Keith’s lips, tasting something sweet—syrup and strawberries—as he slowly licks his way inside. He pulls up as hands come up to cradle Keith’s face, fingers brushing dark hair from his purple eyes. Shiro’s white forelock dusts Keith’s brow, and the younger man crinkles his nose in response. Shiro seizes the opportunity and presses a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. 

Hands grab Shiro’s, laying them on the table in front of them. “I love you,” Keith says, eyes soft. “I… I want you to know that.”

Shiro’s eyes are riveted to their interlocked fingers. “I’ve loved you for years,” he says in return.

There’s a sharp breath, Keith at a loss for words. “How long?”

“I don’t know,” is his immediate response, the words falling from his lips—soft and easy. “I guess, I’ve loved you for so long that I forgot when I started.”

Keith’s shoulders shake with his light chuckle. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Yeah?” Shiro cocks his head, touching their foreheads together as he presses a kiss to the corner of Keith’s lips. “Want me to stop?” 

“I didn’t say that.” Keith smiles and leans forward, resting his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck, where Shiro wraps his arms around his waist in a tight embrace. “Cheesiness is one of my favorite things when it comes to you.” 

There’s a short pause before Shiro breathes into his ear, “If you stay over tomorrow, I can make you a cheese omelet?”

Keith snorts, body shaking with laughter, as he buries himself deeper against Shiro. “You are…” He catches himself mid-sentence and stops.

Shiro cocks his head in confusion, lowering his voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” Keith’s already shaking his head, pulling away, before continuing after a second with, “I just… You’re perfect, and I love you.”

Shiro’s cheeks tinge pink, and it’s turn to bury his face against Keith’s shoulder. “I love you too.” 

Keith’s returning smile is as simple and beautiful as the first time Shiro ever saw it. He hums in contentment against the nape of Shiro’s neck as his hands slip underneath the hoodie, sketching shapes into the soft skin he’d spent the night before mapping out, every scar and curve and beauty mark. Shiro lifts his head and noses his way back to Keith’s lips, pressing soft, lingering kisses there, until Keith is warm and pliant against him. Thumbs stroke hip bones, lips tracing jawlines, and breathes warm and quiet in the space between them. 

“The pancakes are getting cold,” Keith says against his mouth.

Shiro simply laughs. “Is that really what you want to talk about right now?” 

There’s a pause, a moment of silence, the span of a single heartbeat. 

And then: “But they’re good pancakes." 

That’s it. Shiro loses it, shoulder shaking with barely controlled laughter, as he throws his head back and collapses back in his chair. Across from him, Keith echoes his sentiments, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, until they’re both breathless.

And what can Shiro say? They’re both dumb and young and in love. The kind of love that makes your toes curl in happiness, nose crinkle with joy, and the smiles that will never leave. It’s the best feeling in the world, if you ask him.

He won’t ever change a thing.

(And neither will Keith, which is the best part.)

 

 


End file.
